Just One Kiss

by Dayna Quince

  “I was alarmed to receive Bain’s note regarding your rapid departure. I loathe traveling alone.”

  “Yes, well, my apologies for the sudden change. We felt it best to get away by ourselves.”

  “Utter nonsense and dangerous. What if you had been set upon by thieves?”

  “We stayed on the main roads. There was no danger, I assure you.”

  “It is always dangerous to travel after dusk. I won’t permit it in the future.”

  Hazel could feel the muscles in her neck growing tighter with every word. “We don’t have any immediate plans to travel.”

  “A blessing it will be. I care little for town festivities. Now that Bain has found a wife, there will be no need.”

  Hazel swallowed a hot sip of tea too fast and choked on it. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’ve begun your duties. By the season, your pregnancy will be well underway.”

  Hazel could only blink in response.

  “How long did it take your mother to conceive? It is discouraging that there are no males in the line, but perhaps her duties grew distasteful.”

  “I…I have no idea.”

  “Bain’s mother found her duties unpleasant, or she would have been made to have more than one son. She was not my first choice for my brother, being foreign and what not.”

  Hazel set down her tea slowly. “From where did she hail?” She did her best to sound calm.

  “Greece. Her father was a wealthy merchant. She came from a line of merchants!” Mrs. Danford scoffed angrily.

  “Where did the late Lord Bainbridge meet his wife?”

  “On his travels. My brother was a connoisseur of the world. He lived to see exotic places and taste exotic food,” she said fondly.

  Hazel tried to push the conversation in that direction to avoid any more of Mrs. Danford’s spite.

  “How exciting that must have been. How—”

  “He broke my heart every time he left. His place was at home, doing his duty to his family, learning the reins of Ridgemont.”

  “Ridgemont?” Hazel hadn’t heard the name.

  Mrs. Danford looked at her sharply. “Ridgemont was our family home. It caught fire while my brother was away cavorting in the Mediterranean. The house was decimated and my parents both perished.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Hazel saw the anger and sorrow that gripped Mrs. Danford.

  “That was when he finally came home. It was on the ship of a Greek merchant, whose lovely daughter met them at the dock.”

  Hazel didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Danford wasn’t even looking at her as she told her story. Abruptly, Mrs. Danford looked up, and it was as if she hadn’t been speaking of her parent’s death at all. She smiled.

  “It’s my duty to see Bainbridge flourish as my brother would have wished it—and it all begins with Bain, my nephew, that is.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I’ve already spoken to you of your duties, Lady Hazel. Please try to pay attention in the future. Now, if you are finished, we will commence with the tour of the house.”

  Hazel looked down at her plate. She’d only had three bites of her eggs and a sip of tea. She shrugged. Her appetite had slipped away with each word Mrs. Danford uttered.

  “I will instruct the chef to prepare you a special menu in preparation for breeding,” Mrs. Danford continued.

  Whatever inclination Hazel felt to eat died at that moment. Hazel stood from her chair. “I really don’t think that is necessary.”

  “It certainly is. The deceased Lady Bainbridge suffered many losses. The Bainbridge line is strong, but must have an equally strong nest to settle in.” Her eyes settled around Hazel’s hips.

  Hazel moved to stand behind her chair.

  “Come along, Lady Hazel.”

  Hazel followed grudgingly, walking behind Mrs. Danford. She didn’t want to be leered at for her breeding purposes while they walked.

  Mrs. Danford gave a brief yet detailed layout of the house, going room to room and giving short histories. Hazel soon stopped listening. Mrs. Danford’s observations were as dry as dust and unusually centered on her brother. Hazel began to notice that many of the portraits were, in fact, of the late Lord Bainbridge. Bain, as she tended to call him, which she also called Garrett. Odd.

  As they walked through the halls, Hazel began to have the eerie feeling of being watched. She looked around, checking corners and curtains for hidden bodies. As Mrs. Danford finished the tour back in the drawing room, Hazel began to concoct reasons to escape. It was midmorning. Her horse would have arrived following Mary, and a ride would be the perfect getaway. As she was about to speak, she saw movement by the door in the corner of her eye.

  “Is someone there?” Hazel said aloud.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Mrs. Danford said irritably

  “I saw someone by the door,” Hazel stated. She just knew someone was listening from the hall.

  “Emily?” Mrs. Danford barked.

  Hazel watched in surprise as Emily scooted into the room.

  “Ah, you see? It was only Emily.”

  But why? Hazel wanted to know but suspected Mrs. Danford would not be obliging with the answer. There was some hierarchy going on here with this lady’s maid and the rest of the staff. Hazel suspected she would need to get to the bottom of it. Favoritism is toxic among staff.

  “Emily, did you find the information I need?”

  Emily looked sheepish. Hazel had at first thought Emily rather young, but in the light of the drawing room, she could see faint lines at the corners of her eyes and streaks of grey in her blonde hair.

  “No, ma’am. The lady’s maid, Mary, would not accommodate me.”

  “Why ever not?” Mrs. Danford turned to Hazel.

  Hazel shrugged. “I know not of what she speaks.”

  “I tasked Emily with questioning Mary about your cycles. I assumed incorrectly that she would be forthcoming.”

  Hazel couldn’t hide her shock. Her eyes felt like they might pop out of her head. “Why would you need such personal information?”

  Mrs. Danford blinked. “I simply must. I will monitor your cycles to determine when a pregnancy shall be forthcoming.”

  “I don’t need to be monitored like some sort of experiment, Mrs. Danford. This is a gross invasion of privacy.” Hazel stood from her seat. “Furthermore, my maid shall not be asked such questions without my knowledge. She respects my privacy. If you have questions regarding me—which I may or may not answer, you will ask me.” Hazel quit the room. She couldn’t believe the audacity that woman had. This was bordering on lunacy.

  She had to speak with Garrett. As much as she would like for them to get along and live together, Mrs. Danford’s behavior proved that an impossibility. She escaped to her room and summoned Mary. When Mary came, Hazel could see she was upset.

  “I have a suspicion you’ve had a row with Emily?”

  Mary’s head snapped up as she was fishing Hazels riding boots from the armoire.

  “Did she report me? The nerve of that woman. She had no right to be asking—”

  “About my courses? Yes, I know. I received the same questions when you so wonderfully refused to answer. Thank you, by the way.”

  “Have they no boundaries?” Mary shook her head in exasperation.

  “I don’t know, but I’m quickly reaching my tolerance. I’m going to speak with Lord Bainbridge tonight. Perhaps it’s time for Mrs. Danford to find her own home to run.”

  Mary agreed and helped Hazel don her riding habit.

  Hazel had her horse saddled and rode down the drive as if she were escaping bedlam. She stayed on the main road, a groom trailing her should she become lost. It wasn’t unusual for a lady to have a groom follow her, but Hazel was fast becoming suspicious of all the Bainbridge staff. How many of them were loyal to Mrs. Danford?

  Whatever the case may be, for the moment, she was away from Mrs. Danford and was free to gather herself together. She took a deep cleansing breath, reli
shing the crisp, clean air. She spent another hour exercising her horse and then returned to the stables. She thanked the groom and returned to the house. She entered through the back and took the back stairs to avoid crossing paths with Mrs. Danford. Hazel would wait until Garrett returned, speak to him, and then see where things went from there.

  Reaching the safety of her room, she bathed herself with the fresh water Mary refilled in the morning and changed out of her riding habit herself. She was wary that if she summoned Mary, word would reach Emily and then Mrs. Danford. Hazel sat in her room and penned a letter to Anabelle choosing not to mention her concerns of Mrs. Danford just yet. She then read past lunch, ignoring the rumbling of her stomach.

  Her efforts were rewarded when, just after tea, she heard the voices of Garrett and his valet. Hazel waited by the door until she heard Smith, his valet, as he departed. She entered the room, finding Garrett bathing himself at the wash basin. He was shirtless. Hazel took a moment to appreciate the muscular shifting of his back. She didn’t know men could be pleasing to look at without clothes. They cut fine figures in evening clothes, but Hazel had a new appreciation for what lay under them now.

  “Good afternoon.” Hazel licked her dry lips.

  Garrett smiled at her in the mirror. “It is now. I’ve been ankle deep in putrid mud all morning.”

  “How is the dam faring?”

  “It will hold, but not for long. Lord Jasper—the dam resides on his land, has ordered the lumber to fortify it.”

  “Why did Lord Jasper send for you?” Hazel wondered.

  “We went to school together. He knew I have an affinity for architecture and engineering.”

  “Oh?” Why didn’t Hazel know that?

  “A hobby of mine, you could say. It’s another reason why I enjoy attending parties during the season but don’t actually engage many of the guests. I like to look around.”

  “That I did know,” Hazel mused.

  “How was your morning? I’m sorry I had to leave you so early.” Garrett said.

  He was ambushed by his aunt upon returning the moment he stepped into the front hall. She’d had some interesting things to say. Garrett wasn’t sure what to make of the situation regarding his new wife and his aunt. His aunt could be peculiarly sensitive at times, something he learned quickly as a young boy. Perhaps he should have warned Hazel, but Hazel was so kind and sweet, he hadn’t even thought he would need to. It was as he said at dinner the evening before—change can be uncomfortable. There was bound to be a period of adjustment for all of them. As for him, he loved every minute spent in Hazel’s presence. She was a breath of fresh air in this stale house. She remained in his thoughts as he slogged through his daily work. He pictured her in his mind frequently, often losing his train of thought while writing correspondence or speaking with the tenants.

  He should introduce Hazel to the tenant farmers, now that he thought of it. His aunt had filled the role of the benevolent countess, bringing baskets of food and medicine for the sick when called for, but she did so with a stoic silence that he could tell they found off-putting. Hazel would not be as stoic. The children would love her, he was sure of it. He finished washing and turned to her, slipping his arms around her hips. He was greedy for her, the hunger of his desire still roaring for the scent of her, the taste of her. He was half afraid having her every night would never be enough to sate him.

  He saw her eyes slide down as she answered him.

  “It was fine. I had breakfast with your aunt, and then she gave me a tour of the house.”

  He waited. Silence often urged others to reveal more.

  “I have something to discuss with you,” she admitted.

  “I thought you might. My aunt caught me in the hall and informed me that you and she had a disagreement.”

  “Yes, you see, she is asking rather… personal questions.”

  “What sort of questions?”

  Hazel hesitated. She didn’t want to discuss such a subject with him any more than she did with his aunt. “Delicate questions.”

  He sighed. “She said she inquired after your health. You claimed to have a headache the evening before, and she only wanted to be sure you felt better.”

  If only that were true, Hazel grumbled internally. “Yes, I did last night. But she has since become quite intrusive with her questions.”

  “She has strong motherly instincts. She didn’t have any children of her own, and I’m afraid she forgets that the entire world isn’t her child. It’s just the way she is. She has only the best of intentions.”

  Hazel wasn’t pacified one bit, but he looked so earnest in his explanation.

  “She is a widow?”

  “Yes. I never met my uncle. He died shortly after they married and she still mourns him.”

  Now Hazel felt guilty. Mrs. Danford was a small wounded bird, and Hazel, a mean cat intent to bat it about. “I didn’t realize.”

  “She is very private with her past. It pains her still.”

  Hazel nodded. “I shall remember that from now on.”

  “There, you see? Just as I said… we are all adjusting and learning from each other. Soon we shall be one happy family.”

  Hazel nodded, but her relief felt like a stone in her stomach. Questions about her courses were not normal.

  Garrett wasn’t convinced his lovely wife saw his aunt the way he did, but in time, she would understand. He was certain of it. Just as he believed in the good in his aunt, he knew Hazel to be incapable of any unkindness. “Now that this bit of unpleasantness is out of the way…” He nuzzled her neck. She remained stiff, so he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. She shivered in response and relaxed against him. She released a breath and tilted her head to the side giving him better access.

  “Now, where did we leave off this morning? I believe you said you wanted to try to reverse positions.”

  Hazel closed her eyes. She nodded. Troubling thoughts melted away and heat filled her. “Yes.”

  Chapter 8

  Hazel woke up the next morning alone again. Garrett had woken at first light, intending to meet a sheep breeder some miles away. He wanted to return before dinner again. He liked dining with his two favorite women, he’d said at the dinner table last night, and intended to make a habit of it. Hazel hadn’t found the notion so enjoyable.

  The woman she was growing to know as Mrs. Danford hadn’t attended dinner last night. In her place was some vapid creature of wilting innocence. Sugar wouldn’t have dared melt in her mouth.

  Hazel was almost impressed by the spectacle, but fortunately, she didn’t believe it for a moment. She’d seen such acts before. Usually, on the stage, but sometimes in ballrooms. Hazel had watched carefully as Mrs. Danford played her hand the other night and knew she had to be very careful from now on. Garrett bought every word that left the woman’s mouth, and why shouldn’t he? She’d raised him from the time he was a small boy. She was the only mother figure he’d had.

  That knowledge put Hazel in a bad spot. She didn’t like the woman, was sure the woman was playing a very manipulative game, but why? What did she have to gain?

  Hazel climbed out of bed and rang for Mary. When Mary arrived, she ordered a tray of breakfast. She lingered at her writing desk while she waited for Mary’s return and considered writing to her sister again. What would she say? She wanted to confide in someone, and Anabelle would understand. What would Anabelle do in this situation?”

  Mary returned shortly, her expression sour. She set the tray down and removed the cover.

  Hazel scrunched her nose. “What is this?”

  “Fish and leaves,” Mary responded.

  “I see that. Where are my eggs and bacon?”

  “This is all they would give me.” Mary covered the food again and poured her a cup of tea.

  “All who would give you?”

  “The chef. You’re on a strict diet for your pregnancy or didn’t you know that?”

  “What the devil? I’m not pregnant!” Haz
el felt her irritation bubble over to rage.

  “Yes, I said as much to the entire kitchen, but they are on strict orders from Mrs. Danford.”

  Hazel stood. “I am the countess. It disgusts me to have to say that in that way, but for heaven’s sake, I should be able to have the breakfast of my choosing in my own house!”

  “I’m not arguing with you.” Mary shrugged.

  “I know—” Hazel took a moment to control her voice. “I’m not mad, am I? This is very peculiar?”

  “It’s as mad as bat feces.”

  Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Bat feces’?”

  “Yes.” Mary nodded. “Your father’s coachman had a colorful description of that horse that terrified everyone until your father sold it.”

  “Yes, I remember. I’ve never heard such an unusual expression.”

  Mary grimaced. “I’m not supposed to say things like that in front of you is probably why.”

  Hazel giggled. “No, but I won’t tell if you won’t. Am I missing a whole world of colorful language?”

  “Yes,” Mary laughed, “though now that you’re the mistress of your own house, I suppose there is no one to get us in trouble.”

  “Just promise not to speak like that in front of the child I’m miraculously carrying.”

  “I won’t.” Mary winked.

  Hazel’s temper faded somewhat. “What shall we do with this?” She gestured to the foul smelling breakfast.

  “Toss it out the window. The stable cats will catch a whiff and eat it all.”

  “We will do precisely that.” Hazel stood with the plate and tossed the food out the open window.

  “I will get up before the kitchen staff and make you something myself every morning,” Mary offered.

  “That is very kind of you, but I won’t put you to such trouble. I will speak to the staff myself.”

  Mary nodded. “Do you want a bath?”

  Hazel went about her morning routine. She decided to go riding again. The village proper wasn’t that far away. She could find her way there and stop to have a bite to eat at the local inn. Mrs. Danford certainly didn’t have control of the neighboring village. Could she? She had the same groom as before. His name was Matthew. He seemed young to be a groom. He followed her quietly as she rode, the only sound the steady clop of the hooves of his serviceable horse. She wondered if she would be paranoid about all the staff, or if she would grow comfortable in time. She knew she could trust Mary.